


Puppy

by Aithilin



Series: Halloween Week 2019 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 16:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21211304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Once a month, Noctis and Gladio head out to the Lucian wilds to give Gladio some room to run. Noctis has his own plans for these outings.





	Puppy

It was easy to lose track of time. Hours and days bled together beneath the wild trees, the stars and sky passed overhead while the birdsong echoed around them in the grove. The haven plateau jutted out from the Duscaen hillside, the already quiet roads muted by grass and trees and the barriers constructed in strategic places meant to deter the wildlife from blindly crossing. The Lestallum transports moved overhead, a consistent hum across the landscape from tower to narrow tower— little more than clouds across the grasslands. 

If Noctis strained, he could see the farms that dotted Lucis. The ranches sheltered by trees nearby, their herds wandering through the trough freely as handlers on chocobos trotted alongside them. The great garulessa leading the slow and steady charge into the water of the Slough while the ranchers fanned out around her.

At night, he could see the lights of the ranches in the forest, the chocobo calls echoing across the night-still waters. The stars shining above as he eyed the ripples along the Slough and tried to determine if they were caused by prized fish, or the rumbling snores of the Catoblepas curled for the night in the shallows. 

“Not tonight,” Gladio tidied the camp as he spoke, as he caught where Noctis’ attention was. “I want you close.”

They went camping like this once a month, just the two of them. When the pressures of the city, the noise and people and demands started to grate on their nerves. When the urge to snap at anyone and everyone started to bubble closer to the surface than either of them liked. 

When Gladio was ‘moody’ as Iris liked to say. 

Noctis knew it was when the Wolf needed some time out to play. 

They had managed it well enough in Insomnia. The great beast of his Shield’s other form spending days curled on his bed, his couch, running across the Amicitia estate or bounding around him in the training rooms, playful snaps at him as they kept to the routine suggested by their fathers. The Shields always had a bit of beast inside them, Clarus had once warned him. It helped their senses, their protective nature, their knowledge of what they saw as their territory. With their King or Prince in the centre of it all. 

The first time Noctis had seen Gladio change, he had been terrified of the creature. He had watched from the safety of his father’s arms as the friend he had known since birth twisted and cried and howled in pain. They had to bond, they were told, and that meant bonding with the creature that the Shield could pull to the surface at will. He had only been four or five, he remembered, and set down before this beast that had once been his friend. 

He was told that he referred to Gladio as a ‘puppy’ for weeks after. He only remembered the familiar eyes; the Amicitia golden eyes, and Gladio’s own fear in them. 

Noctis huffed as Gladio’s arms closed around his waist. As Gladio moved to stay in his line of sight, to block his view of the water. “It’s thirty feet from camp, Gladio. You’ll follow me anyway.”

“I want,” A nip to the back of his neck, and Noctis rolled his eyes; “you close.”

“And I want to go fishing. There’s a monster out there, you know. Just waiting for me. I have the perfect lure and—”

Noctis pushed Gladio away from the kiss. Not far, not in rejection, just to make sure his Shield saw his sulk. 

He was used to this, to butting heads against Gladio’s stubborn nature that others would have been too happy to blame on the other form. 

“Here, Noct. Just for tonight, you can go fishing all you want in the morning.”

“I’m not part of your territory, mutt.”

“I’m not saying you are, brat.”

He was used to making sure the protective streak wasn’t just some part of the creature’s instinct. To making sure Gladio’s attention wasn’t duty or instinct or whatever else people wanted to pass off as out of his control. Noctis knew better than to let that thinking get the better of them both. They could be dangerous excuses. 

“Then I’m going fishing,” Noctis insisted, making no move to fully separate himself from Gladio; “and you’re coming with me.”

“You’re not catching on, are you?”

There was an amusement there, and Noctis huffed again, sulking as Gladio kissed his forehead with a more innocent affection. Around them, the birds carried on and the distant ranchers’ calls echoed across the water, the splashing of their herds and birds scaring away anything beneath that water. Moving all the prime fishing spots. 

“No, I get it, but you being a dog isn’t going to distract me.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you probably have fleas. Come on, it’s just a few hours.”

Noctis knew that he would win in the end. That he would be settled for the bulk of the day (and hopefully night) out on the Slough banks; with a grumbling Gladio curled at his back, shifted to let himself stretch properly. He would rather Gladio stay human so he can help haul the biggest fish to shore, but concessions needed to be made. 

They had been told that Gladio would be protective. That he would have instincts and urges and would see the world in terms of what was his. Clarus said it was all bullshit written down by scared men who didn’t know better. And no one, apparently, had ever asked a Shield about the matter. Gladio was still Gladio under all the fur and teeth and four legged bulk. He was still big and friendly and goofy. He still trotted along in Noctis’ shadow, regardless of shape. Still growled at things that upset his Prince, still nudged into him to offer comfort in his own way. Still watched every knew person with a sort of confident wariness, sizing up the threats and competition alike. 

Their first kiss had been an accident. Which sent Gladio skittering away in a panic as he took nearly a month to decide if he felt something for himself, or if it was instinct from the beast. 

Noctis called him an idiot when he decided, because even he knew that the two were never really separated. 

He just accepted that he loved Gladio as he was. The camping trips were just the excuse for privacy.

Let the Citadel think Gladio needed the space to indulge in some baser instinct. Noctis had good fishing out here.


End file.
